


Catch Me If You Can

by melissen



Category: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005)
Genre: Feelings Realization, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Harry Being Harry, Jealous Perry, Jealousy, M/M, Oblivious Harry, POV First Person, Perry being an idiot, Perry missing Harry, Top Perry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:02:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28610286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melissen/pseuds/melissen
Summary: After four months of working for Perry as his assistant, and also living in his house in LA, Harry suddenly goes back to NY leaving his grumpy boss somewhat... lost and kind of missing that walking disaster. Which is fucked up but it's there, undeniably present in the sudden tightness in Perry's chest.Perry's POV!
Relationships: Harry Lockhart/Perry van Shrike
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	1. Where Harry leaves my sorry ass

**Author's Note:**

> This fandom needs more stories, so here is mine. I should have done this years ago.  
> NOT BETA-ed - so if you're up to it, let me know.  
> English - will never be my first language but I promise to do my best.
> 
> Kiss Kiss Bang Bang - not mine and I do not profit from writing this fic.

Hi, everyone. You know me, rich, gay, and perfectly happy until a certain human disaster tuned my whole world upside down.

Before I met Harry, my life was pure order and peace. I was getting shitload of money for providing people with pictures of their cheating spouses, and despite being a complete asshole I was still hot enough to walk into a bar and leave with a gorgeous man, take him home, fuck him and kick out without ever having to learn his name.

So, I figured, that making Harry Lockhart happen to a guy like me must be the proof that karma is one mean fucking bitch.

Harry is like a bad omen, or an old chewing gum stuck to your shoe. Though a chewing gum can’t get you killed, while Harry… Well, he’s like a plague that comes to ruin your life, but doesn’t pass to let you recover. He’s also a magnet for trouble of epic proportions, and an idiot of magnitude previously not countered among human kind. And believe me, I’ve met stupid people before. I’m a PI for the Hollywood crowd, and hence I thought I’ve seen it all. But Harry, as it turned out, was on the whole new level. He believed Harmony was “wicked smart”! In my humble opinion she was as smart as Harry but she at least had luck on her side, while Harry had nothing.

Except for me, that is.

I often wondered: if I could turn back time, would I politely decline the offer to pretend to teach Harry about the PI job? Would I erase his overwhelmingly troublesome presence from my life, my work, and my house, if I could?

I was pretty sure the answer was “Fuck yeah!” After all, it would mean getting back to my peaceful perfect life, with no chips and grease on my ecru leather couch, no fuck-ups on the job, no bullets in my body. You know, the good stuff.

Four months after Harry had been inflicted on me by fate’s questionable sense of humor, I almost forgot how it felt to have normal, carefree life, without worrying that the imbecile taking the calls on my desk may cut off his finger with a paper or something. (It’s Harry we’re talking about – don’t judge)

So, when he mumbled that he would be getting out of my hair I was elated. I wanted to throw a fucking party before I remembered how I hated having people in my house. But I knew he wouldn’t do it so I joked about finally having some peace.

A few days later I came back home after a particularly shitty job and the moment I crossed the threshold I was already bitching to him, almost looking forward to sharing some of my burden in front of the tv, eating his disgusting chips, when I realized that the house was empty.

There was no chips, no grease and crumbs on the couch, no silly books scattered over the coffee table, no worn out hoodie on the back of the chair or dirty sneakers on the carpet.

Harry was gone, as he was supposed to.

I tried to force a smile onto my face. I felt my muscles move and my lips twist but when I caught my reflection in the mirror I almost threw up. I left and got drunk - something I never did.

The next day Harry was still gone, of course, and I breathed in the air of my regained freedom. If you were wondering, it smelled like booze, hangover and vomit.

It took me about half a day to realize that my life sucked.

Don't get me wrong. Everything was miraculously back to the way it's been before. There was no trace of Harry in the house. The guest room and the office were impeccable. No stray t-shirt, not even a bag of peanuts he loved to nick from the deli just to 'stay in shape'.

And I was pissed.

So, I went to the deli and stood in front of the peanut stand staring at the colorful bags like a fucking addict. I've seen Harry snatch them million times. He simply took one, put it in his pocket and left smiling at the apparently blind salesman.

My hand was already holding a bag of fucking peanuts and my heart was in my throat but I still put it into my pocket and headed for the door.

"Are you going to pay for that?"

The old man behind the counter was clearly not blind. Maybe it was Harry's overall helplessness that pushed all suspicion away from his doe eyes.

"Sure."

I paid for the fucking peanuts and left with the heavy feeling of defeat, munching on them on my way to the car. And they didn't even taste the same. Fucking waste of time. I was going to chuck them out of the window before starting the engine but an irresistible urge to do something unthinkable stopped me. Next thing I knew the glossy bag had been dropped onto the passenger's seat while its greasy and salty content spilled all over my pristine car.

Some pitiful knot in my chest, which until then I hadn't even known was there, loosened minutely and for the first time in two days I could almost breathe normally.

Not for long though, because then I was on the highway, nearing my turn and I realized that going back home would only show me more distinctly Harry-less places. I passed the slip road and let my foot press the gas pedal a bit harder.

The airport was an hour drive, so I had some time to cool off and talk myself out of whatever I was going to do. Because it was obvious that it was going to be something Harry-level stupid. But I only ended up thinking back to that night I saw him for the first time, pulling that moth out of the water. That job was ridiculous but paid well and I remembered thinking 'At least he's cute.'

And fuck if Harry wasn't cute. Like a puppy kicked into a puddle. I picked his beaten and bleeding ass up of the lawn and genuinely enjoyed myself cleaning up the cuts on his face, staring into those enormous brown eyes and reciprocating every single one of his dumb smiles. Yeah, Harry was cute. There was never a point in denying that.

But he was not that cute.

One day of having Harry on an assignment and I just wanted to go home and forget I ever met him. I mean, you've all seen what a clusterfuck that was.

So, why did I pick up the phone when he called? And after he told me about the dead body in his bathroom? I didn’t even think about it. I just turned around on the "No turn" sign and like some total fucking moron I went to get rid of the body, like it was something I did every other night for guys I've just met. And I put that freakin' corpse into my own car! He’s still convinced I did that just because the girl had a bullet from my gun stuck in her head, but honestly, I didn’t even think about it back then.

I was still thinking about it on the plane and I couldn't wrap my head around it. How could I, Perry Van Shrike, do any of those things I did since I met Harry? And I don't just mean getting pulled into an absurd plot straight from a cheap noir novel, or getting kidnapped and shot at. I mean the whole shebang - me involved in that completely impossible intrigue. I mean me involved? And it was only then, when I was thinking about it on 35 thousand feet over Indianapolis, that it hit home.

Apparently, Harry's stupidity was contagious, because I clearly caught it. It took me four months to realize that I was compromised.

Emotionally.

I shielded Harry from a bullet with my own body, readily giving up my own life for his useless, pitiful existence, and I still hadn't realized that at some point, somehow, I started to care about that little piece of shit.

The moment I stepped off the plane it was also clear that I caught even more of Harry's immeasurable idiocy than I thought. It was November and the weather in NY was freezing while the warmest piece of clothing I had with me was my ecru blazer.

Fuck.

I forced my way to the front of the long line of people waiting for a cab and might have pushed some old lady out of the way a bit too hard, but at least I was finally on my way to Harry.

"Where to?" The driver didn't even bat an eye at my questionable choice of wardrobe.

"Um..." But he did raise an eyebrow at my eloquent answer. I had no idea where I should go. I never had Harry's New York address because he was living with me. I never needed it.

I called Harmony. It took her longer than I could stand but she finally found some old napkin where Harry apparently scribbled his sister's address before he even moved in with me. The driver wasn't thrilled about the prospect of entering that particular neighborhood and flat out refused to wait and give me 5 fucking minutes to drag the idiot from the apartment and go back to the airport.

Because that was the plan, in case I hadn't made myself clear enough by this point.

Now, I would like to go back to the issue of the fucking napkin for a moment here. Before giving me the address Harmony forced me to listen to the whole story of Harry first spilling his beer and wiping it with the said napkin only to realize it was the last one they had. Then the salsa happened and to make the long story short, Harmony kept the napkin more as a souvenir of a crazy night of weird events. (Back then she was still yet to know that it was just a routine when you're around Harry). What I'm getting at though is that holding the address was never that napkin’s primary function. Meaning, it was not perfectly legible.

That is how I got to a wrong apartment only to be greeted by a barrel of a shotgun.

I guess, aside from an unhealthy dose of his idiocy, Harry also pitched in some of his unbelievable bad luck.

When I called Harmony for the second time she admitted that what she told me was 3 could actually be a 5. I didn't even comment. At this point I was just happy I was at least in the right district.

I wasn't in the right district. Not even close. I was in Queens while Harry's sister lived in Brooklyn. I guess I'll skip the most of the incriminating details of my not so stellar detective work and get straight to the point where I finally got to the right apartment.

The door opened a boy around 10 with huge brown eyes and curly hair. If I didn't know better, I would be thinking it was Harry's kid.

"Wow... You look like Harry."

The boy's eyes widened somehow even more.

"Don't let my mum hear you say that."

I nodded. I could relate to that. No matter how I felt about the disaster named Harry Lockhart I would never wish for anyone to walk in his shoes, least of all a kid.

Harry, obviously, was not home.

I need to mention that his sister seemed suspiciously normal, but mini-Harry bumped his head twice on the same lamp and spilled his milk onto the computer he was playing with causing a short circuit, blowing a fuse, and turning off the lights in the whole apartment, all while I was there no more than 3 minutes.

I fixed the fuse and learned that Harry took on a job (an honest to gods real job) in the furniture company, on a production line. My heart stopped hearing that last part but I guess negative thinking made me move faster. Harry's sister helped me find a cab and I was on my way again.

When I arrived to the given address there was a commotion in front of the main entrance. I felt dread before I even noticed the ambulance lights disappear in the traffic.

"What happened?" I needed to know. If I was too late, I had no idea what I would do.

"One of the new guys got his hand chopped off."

I didn't have to ask who.

"Which one, left or right?" The woman looked at me like I was crazy, which was just... rude. It was a sound question. I needed to know if I could use it as an excuse to jerk Harry off from now on or not.

Just to make sure I wasn't playing on assumptions here I still got inside and walked up to the reception desk.

"Excuse me, where can I find Harry Lockhart?"

"Oh, you should still catch him in that ambulance."

Even knowing the answer beforehand didn't stop my heart from skipping a beat. Fuck. I let him out of my sight for two, well three fucking days! Harry was already short of one finger and now the whole hand. And I still didn’t know which one!

In the hospital I stormed the reception desk making the poor girl at the counter drop her coffee.

"The guy with a cut off hand?!" I decided it would be easier for her than searching by name.

She directed me to the waiting room. They were still operating and it could take up to five hours, so I moved my ass to the cafeteria. Four hours later I tried again. The procedure was finished but 'no visitors today'.

After leaving the hospital I booked myself into the nearest hotel and went shopping. The plan was to grab Harry and be back for dinner. Now I had no idea how long Harry would be staying in the hospital so I needed at least three suits, a warm coat, shoes, a sweater, and underwear. It took me 40 minutes to make some phone calls and regain access to the credit cards I've lost when I was mugged on the subway (the part I skipped earlier to save the rest of my dignity). I also had to buy a few suitcases to take all those clothes back to LA with me and Harry. Which was such a waste, because I've bought two identical beige sets of beautiful and ridiculously expensive suitcases of five sizes for me and Harry not even a month before the bastard had left.

Maybe that was the reason he moved out? Because he finally could pack his shit?

But seriously, no. I am fully aware that Harry had left because of me. And he didn't even take any of those cases. His meager belongings would fit in the smallest one anyway. Actually, that was exactly what he said when I bought them. He said that even if he packed everything he owned, he would not fill more than that one. And I laughed. I remembered how I planned to buy him tones of clothes and other things. I just didn't know why, back then. Now I know. I wanted him to have something with me which he wouldn't want to leave. I wanted him to plant roots and stay.

But instead, being me, I treated him like shit and he left. It was a miracle he managed to stand me for as long as he did. I wouldn't be surprised if he refused to go back with to L.A. - a thought which did not occur to me until then. Fuck. Like a totally heartless bastard I found myself being glad for that accident, because now Harry could no longer work on production and surely finding a job where you only needed one hand, (or possibly just four fingers) would be difficult. I had a perfect job waiting for him in California and I didn't care how many hands he had. I just wanted him to be back. Besides, even if he did find a job he could do with one hand, it would apparently only take two days for him to loose the other one, so it wasn't worth it, right? It was better to just come with me and let me take care of him. After all, I managed to keep the rest of him in one piece for months after he had lost a finger!

The visitators hours start at 9:00 am so I was in the hospital at 8:30 to talk to the doctor.

"The patient had died this morning."

And I almost died hearing those words.

"No. You have it wrong. He had lost a hand. It was just, like an amputation."

"I'm sorry. He’d lost a lot of blood. We managed to complete the surgery but with major amputations like that and with the damage caused by the machine it was really a miracle he got to the ER alive."

"No... No." I refused to listen. I wanted to punch him and go find Harry, who only had his hand chopped off and was fine.

They say that grief has five stages. I think I experienced the first two in one go: denial and anger. I wanted to rip the doctor to pieces but I only managed to punch him once when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I didn't want to pick up. I took it out just to haul it at the nearest wall, or at the doctor's head, but then I noticed Harry's face on the screen. And I couldn't breathe, because, what the fuck? Harry was dead. Was he calling me from the morgue or maybe I was just still listed as his emergency contact and someone from the hospital was calling to tell me what happened? I don't even remember picking up, but I distinctly remember sobbing when I heard Harry's voice. Unfortunately, I had no chance to enjoy it because security was already escorting me somewhere and they took my phone.

I tried to explain what happened but they ignored me until cops showed up to pick me up. I made up some story about the doctor looking a lot like a suspect in one of my cases. Cops by default don't like PIs, but telling them that I just wanted to kill a doctor would put me in even more trouble so I lied. They couldn't get a confirmation whether the doctor would press charges because he was in another long ass surgery so they decided that a bail was in order. I was allowed one phone call and normally I would use it to call my lawyer but of course I called Harry, ‘cause I really needed to make sure he was alive.

"Perry?" I think I got hard just hearing his voice.

"Harry, thank gods. Where are you?"

"On my way to work."

"Fuck. Are you alright?”

“…yes. Why?”

“Ok, I need you to come to the precinct and bail me out."

"Bail? What did you do?"

"I hit a doctor."

"...why?"

"I'll explain when I'm out. You still got the credit card I gave you for emergencies?"

"I guess..."

"Good. This is the emergency. Use it. And be quick because the other guy in my cell is really not my type."

"I'm on my way."

By some miracle Harry got to the right precinct and I was out within 30 minutes.

"Perry! What the hell are you doing in New York? My sister-"

I didn't let him finish. I had him squashed in my arms, his face buried in my chest and my face hidden in his hair and I wasn't letting go. He went rigid at first but after a moment he relaxed and hugged me back. I wanted to stay like that forever. His hair smelled like kids shampoo, and he was warm and alive and closer than ever.

Well, not ever, since I've had my tongue in his throat in that back alley by the hotel, but whatever.

"Hey, lover boys! Find a room. Get the fuck out of here!"

We ignored the flatfoot's comment. I pulled Harry along and we both walked out of the building and into Harry's car.

"Ok, I gotta' go now, 'cause I'm already half an hour late for work, but you owe me an explanation, Perry."

"Fuck your work. You're quitting."

"What?" God, how I missed those confused expressions.

"You are quitting your shitty and ridiculously dangerous job."

"Why? Because some guy crushed his hand?"

"He's dead, Harry."

"Dead? Why?"

"Bled out... or something. I don't know. Why did they tell me it was you in that ambulance?"

"Because I was. When it happened, I tried to help, you know, cut the blood flow until the ambulance would come. Like they did in that documentary you made me watch once. So, when they finally arrived, they asked me to go with them and fill out his papers. We were half way to the hospital before I managed to tell them I didn't even know the guy's name. I got the rest of the day off with full pay. Can you believe it? Anyway, I got home and my sister told me that some hot rich guy was looking for me. I almost packed my things and fled but Danny said your name was Van Shark and I laughed my ass off. I was going to call you, but it was after nine and I know how you hate when people call you this late so I waited till morning."

So, I waited five hours in some dingy hospital waiting room and spent the night thinking Harry was having a serious surgery, because he was afraid that the call would upset me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to kiss him or strangle him at that moment. Now that I think about it, it's actually pretty constant feeling when you're around Harry.

"So, why did you hit the doctor?"

"I thought you were dead."

"What?"

"I thought it was you, who had lost a hand, and then the doctor said that the patient died."

"So, you socked the doctor?"

"I was going to do much more but then you called."

"Then it's good I waited till morning. I stopped the bloodshed."

"Had you called me right away I wouldn’t even be there in the morning. But that's not the point. I'm not going to be an ass and scold you for being you. It's not like you can help it, right?"

"... Riiiight... So, this is where I work. I gotta go now. You can take the car if you want. I finish at five, so just bring it back by then if you can. Hey, maybe you could drop by for dinner. My sister makes mean spaghetti. You could tell me why you're here and what they did to you in jail."

"Harry, listen to me carefully. Are you listening?"

I had his full attention, with those puppy eyes all serious and wide, and shiny.

"Yes."

"You are going to go to your manager and quit your job."

He tried to interrupt me so I put my hand over his mouth. We've done that before. Once, he tried to lick my hand to make me stop so I started to lick his neck. He moaned like a whore, but he never tried that move again.

"You are going to quit. Then we go to my hotel to pick up tons of clothes I bought and I'm never even going to need again. Then we go to your sister's apartment to pack your shit. I'll book our flight while you're packing and we're back home for dinner."

I finished with a smile and let go of his mouth. His expression was strangely unreadable.

"I'm going to my boss to tell him that I'm late because I was visiting our dead friend in the hospital. Meanwhile you can't leave the city. That's what the cop said. I vouched for you to stay in New York until further notice. Do you want the car or not?"

You can’t possibly imagine how it feels to have Harry Lockhart correct you and actually be right. I could not describe it if I tried because it was fucking impossible. It should make me want to die, but I think I blushed instead. I felt pride fill me up from the inside at how reasonable he could be.

Then again, I might have been blinded by the overall need to fuck his brains out, but that’s neither here nor there.

I took the car. Harry clearly wasn’t all for going back to me, so I needed to play it right. I needed all the help I could get.

TBC.


	2. Where I try to get Harry back

Harry’s sister was at work and her son at school, but her husband let me in.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“My name is Perry Van Shrike. I’m Harry’s… friend. From California.”

“Oh, I’m Walt. Harry’s at work.”

“I know. I was hoping to catch his sister though.”

“What the hell do you want from my wife?”

“Look, I need your help. I’m here to take Harry back home. Those were nerve racking few days and I just… I want to go home.”

“Ok, look. Don’t understand me wrong. I love Harry like my own brother. But I wouldn’t mind if he moved back to wherever he had been the last few months.”

“Great! Perfect! So, can I count on you? Will you help me convince him to come back?”

“I can try.”

“What about your wife?”

“I guess… but I don’t understand. Why are you so desperate to bring him back? Is he in trouble?”

“I’m _not_ desperate!”

Walt crossed his arms over his chest and looked totally unconvinced.

“Right.”

“Ok, I… need him back at work. Good assistant is hard to find.”

“And Harry is a good assistant? Just yesterday he’d lost his own car on a shopping mall parking lot. He spent two hours looking for it.”

“Well, yeah. Ok. Maybe not the most reliable one, but that’s alright. I got used to it.”

“Why? Look, I’m not pushing him into something he doesn’t want. He’s trouble but he’s also a good guy. He asked us for help, we got him this job. Clearly he had left L.A. for a reason.”

“What reason? What the fuck did I do?”

“He said you wanted him to leave. So, what changed?”

“I never wanted him to leave.”

“Not what he said.”

“Look, I admit that I’m not the easiest person to be around. Honestly, I’m an asshole. I am! I treat people like idiots that they are and I tell them just that. Maybe too often, maybe not. But Harry didn’t mind, just as I don’t mind his… everything. Ok? It worked.”

“Apparently, not for him. He said he has nothing to go back there.”

And that fucking stung. I literally choked on the pain in my chest. What the hell was that supposed to even mean? He had ME, for fucks sake, me! I was NOT nothing!

I must have looked really pitiful because he started to cheer me up. Which was probably nice, but I was on edge, so when he touched my shoulder I snapped and almost broke his wrist.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to do that. Are you alright?”

“I think you broke my wrist, you asshole.”

“That’s not possible. I could maybe dislocate a bone or two but I did not break anything. Don’t worry.”

“You’re fucked up, man. Stay away from me and my family.”

“Not if you consider Harry your family. I’m not leaving without im. I don’t want to fight you. I just want Harry back.”

“Why?”

I had to hide my face in my hands for a moment, because voicing the answer seemed suddenly like a lot.

“I just do. He’s been gone for _days_ and honestly, I’m surprised he’s still alive and has all limbs attached. I need him back, where I can see him.”

“He said you didn’t want him there!”

“He’s an idiot!”

At least this statement made Walt nod and sigh heavily.

“But he just got back, he has this new job and all…”

“Fuck his new job. He has his old job and it’s way better than this deathtrap of a factory!”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that some guy had lost his hand or something.”

“Or something? The guy is fucking dead!”

“Fuck, are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking? Harry’s not staying here. He only has two hands and I want him to keep both for as long as possible.”

“He got shot in L.A.”

“Yeah well, at least in L.A. he has someone who will take the bullet for him.” Just for the dramatic effect I pulled my shirt open and showed him the undeniable proof that I genuinely fucking cared for his retarded brother-in-law.

“Here he will either die at work or get back to his old friends, and stealing. He’s not a punk! I won’t let him do that shit again.”

“Wow, you really do like him, don’t you? Are you gay or something?”

“Fuck you.”

“Does he know?”

“That I’m gay? Of course, he knows. He lived with me for four months, for fuck’s sake! Even he’s not that stupid.”

“He is, but I meant if he knows that you like him.”

“Considering that he apparently believes I don’t give a shit about him I would hazard a guess that he doesn’t. And I would rather it stayed that way.”

“Right. But you know he’s not… you know… He’s been married.”

“First of all, 80% of gay man I know are married, but that’s neither here nor there. I know he’s straight. That’s why I’m not going to tell him. I just want him to come home, where I can fucking see him.”

“Ok, I get it. Maybe you do care about him, but you’re still an asshole.”

“Never said I wasn’t.”

Walt was looking at me with his face twisted in a really fucking weird way.

“Right. My wrist hurts like a bitch. I need to go to the ER. If it’s broken, I’m telling Harry that you did it.”

“No! Fuck, come on. I’ll take you to the doctor. What do you say? I’ll pay for the treatment. Private clinic, no waiting in any stupid line with sick people. Come on. I have Harry’s car.”

“No need for that. Just, get me to the hospital.”

I took him to a private clinic after all, because risking running into that surgeon I socked just wasn’t worth it.

I was right. The wrist wasn’t broken, but they still put it in a cast.

After dropping Harry’s brother-in-law at home, I went back to the precinct to check if the doctor raised charges. He didn’t. I was off the hook and I could leave New York any time I wanted, or more like as soon as I manage to convince Harry to come back.

I waned to get his sister on my side but I had no time to see her because I had to pick up Harry. I waited for him in front of the factory, leaning back against his car when his sister called to make sure we’ll both come for dinner.

“I was actually planning to take him to a nice restaurant.”

“So, Walt wasn’t lying. You do want in his pants.”

“That has nothing to do with that! Please, you don’t really want him to stay with you, do you? This isn’t a place for him. Let me take him home.”

“What if he doesn’t want to? He said that you didn’t want him there. He said that people in L.A. are all fucked up. And the only sane person there was you, and you were fed up with his idiocy.”

“I was just fucking with him.”

“I knew it!”

“Not like that! Jesus. I was just…”

“He said you’d rather he died than stained your carpet.”

“He stains my carpet five times a day! Yes, I bitch about it. Yes, I am an asshole, but it doesn’t mean I wanted him gone. I don’t even mind the mud he leaves everywhere or greasy palm prints on my twenty grand light beige sofa! Last month he spit cranberry juice on my Pollock and I actually laughed, because it really is hard to tell the difference.”

It was all true. At first, I though I was going to kill him, but when he said it looks the same, I couldn’t stop laughing. I was going to get it fixed but every time I look at it, I think about Harry and… this whole thing was so tragic it was hilarious.

“Believe me, I am the best thing that happened to Harry in a long time.”

She was quiet for a moment.

“He was so sad when he called me about the job, asking if he could bunk at our place. He didn’t say what happened but… He’s so quiet and withdrawn. It’s so hard to see him like that. He was always so positive, no matter what shit life threw at him, but now… he’s like a shadow of himself, you know? I don’t want him to go back to whatever made him like that.”

My brain screeched to a stop so abruptly it made me dizzy.

“What? You think I did it? You think it’s my fault?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously? No! I didn’t do anything! It was probably another fucked up cheek, like Harmony! I will find out what happened and destroy the bitch.”

“It’s not any girl, but whatever. Talk to him if you want a closure but I doubt he will want to go with you.”

“Ok, stop talking. This is absurd. I have a table in Gramercy-“

“What, you want to take him to some fancy restaurant in his ratty jeans and a hoodie?”

“I bought him a suit yesterday.”

“You bought him a suit? Man, you really do want in his pants, don’t you?”

“That has nothing to do with _anything_. Literally. Fuck, why am I even talking to you? The only person I need to talk to is him. And he’s just left the factory, so no, don’t wait with dinner, because he’s not coming back, unless it’s to pick up his stuff.”

Harry looked miserable as hell, with his messed up hair, sour expression and eyes trained on his sneakers.

“Hey, chief!”

He looked up and his expression brightened minutely, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. He waved and approached the car.

“Hi, Perry. How did it go?”

“He dropped the charges. We’re good to go as soon as you pack.”

“Go where?”

“Home.”

“Oh yeah. My sister’s probably already waiting with dinner. You coming?”

“I have a table booked for us, but you need to change. Your suit is in my hotel room.”

“What…? What suit?”

“You need a suit or they won’t let you in.”

“Interesting. It’s a case, isn’t it? Who are we trailing?” His face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“It’s not a case. It’s a dinner. Come on, get in. We’re going to be late.”

“Oh, it’s a case. You just won’t admit it because you think I’ll fuck up if I know.”

He did get in - thank gods for small mercies. I expected him to ramble on and on about the nonexistent case but he was quiet, disturbingly so. I tried to ask about his day but no matter what I said he would not engage in the conversation. I made him smile once but it was nervous and short-lived. I was beginning to fucking worry.

We arrived at the hotel where he changed into his new suit but he was so nervous he somehow spilt soap straight onto his tie and shirt. Luckily, being me, I predicted something like that would surely fucking happen and had two more shirts for the idiot. He looked crestfallen when I simply handed him the spare and I just wanted to give him a hug.

“Do I get a gun?”

“A gun? For dinner? You think I will be that bad of a date?”

He snorted taking it as a joke.

“Look, I don’t want to have my balls zapped again just because you refused to give me a gun. Who are these people anyway?”

“What people, Harry? We’re going out, to eat.”

“Fine, don’t tell me. I will go unarmed against an unknown enemy because I trust you.”

I couldn’t help myself. My hand moved to his hair to tousle it but was met with something wet and sticky.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Oh… grease. Sorry. I should have taken a shower.”

He disappeared into the bathroom. I heard some foreboding crashes but he emerged in one piece after a few minutes. I’m not sure what he did but his hair looked pretty normal so we were about ready to leave. For some reason my hands were sweaty and my heart was speeding up. I felt like I was about to have a stroke, which was stupid, because I was just going out with Harry. To eat, not to fucking propose!

But really, I knew that a lot was at stake here. Harry could decide to leave me forever and that would be it. I didn’t know what I would do then. I pulled him close and stupidly put my fucking face into his hair. The grease was still there, but I didn’t even care. I breathed him in and felt fucking divine.

“Don’t… Perry, you’ll get dirty.”

“Shut the fuck up, and let me have this.” I playfully bit his ear, expecting him to squirm and gag like back then when I kissed him, but he fucking shivered all over and gasped blushing like a virgin. My patience was running out.

I let him go and we got back to Harry’s car. The drive to the restaurant was filled with me trying to make Harry talk more about his day and his shitty new job, prompting him to admit he preferred L.A. He didn’t. It looked like his new boss liked him and he already had a bunch of new friends. Which wasn’t surprising. It’s hard to not like him.

“Why didn’t you ask me for credentials? Maybe you would find a better job with a good reference letter.”

“Maybe I would, if I could get good reference. I doubt that being called an imbecile in a sophisticated way would help me.”

I scoffed.

“What the fuck was that supposed to mean?”

He looked at me with those huge eyes of his.

“You would have nothing positive to say about me, even if you were to lie just to find me a job far from you. I fucked up everything you ever asked me to do and I almost got you killed. I’m stupid, dirty, and useless. I think I do better without those facts all over my resume.”

“Hey! You’re not dirty! You just got some grease in your hair because you have a shitty job.”

He shrugged.

“It’s good enough for me.”

“No, it’s not! It’s dangerous and not worth your time. You have a much better job back in L.A.”

“I don’t have anything back in L.A.! And I live in New York and my job is here. And it’s not that bad. It’s my own fault that I got grease in my hair.”

I parked the car and tried to calm down. Fighting Harry was not what I wanted to achieve. We got into our reserved private room and placed our orders. As soon as the waiter left, Harry’s eyes brightened.

“So, what do we do? Are we spying on someone in the booth beside ours? Do you want me to go there and place some bugs?”

“Harry, for the last time, we’re here to eat dinner. There is no case.”

“You want me to believe that you came to New York, bought me a suit, and invited me to dinner for no reason? I am stupid, not crazy.”

“You’re not stupid, Harry.”

I was lucky our drinks were yet to arrive because he would probably spit it into my face snorting like that. He laughed and laughed until he suddenly stopped and looked at me.

“Okay, what’s wrong, Perry? You’re scaring me.”

And what was I supposed to say to that? I was scaring myself! I was fucking terrified.

“Harry…”

And that’s when the drinks arrived. I managed to not kill the waiter but I was on edge and it made Harry even more tense than he already was.

“Harry, why did you leave?”

“New York?”

“No. Why did you leave me?”

This time Harry had his drink and of-fucking-course he spit it straight into my face.

I wiped my face off and smiled because I should have known it would happen. Actually, I _knew_ it would happen, and yet I did nothing.

“I am so sorry…”

“For spitting into my face or for leaving?”

“…Spitting.”

“Why did you leave, Harry?”

He was gaping like a fish for about five minutes.

“I thought you wanted me to leave.”

I didn’t have to ask why. I knew. I treated him like shit and when he said he was leaving I barked “Finally!”

“I didn’t. I’m glad we cleared that out. So, there is a flight tomorrow morning.” I pulled my phone out. I had the tickets booked. All I had to do was pay.

“Oh…” His face fell. “I thought you’d stay longer.”

“It’s fucking freezing. We’re not staying here without a good reason.”

“You said you bought some clothes. I thought you had a case and…”

“For the LAST time, Harry, there is no case. I bought the clothes because I though you were the one injured yesterday. That was my only reason to stick around. I wasn’t sure if they would let me transport you to L.A. right after some complicated surgery, so I bought a ton of fucking winter wear. But you were not injured, so we can go back home. I think there is a flight tonight too. We could catch it, but we would have to skip the dinner.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I can see that.” I sighed and leaned forward, carefully taking both his hands in mine. His face grew more guarded with every second and his hands were shaking.

“Harry, listen to me.” His eyes were so wide I was afraid they would pop out. “Are you listening to me?” He nodded, so I grinned satisfied.

“Harry, the only reason I’m here is you. I came to take you home.”

“Home?”

“Home, Harry. I know I was being an asshole to you but it’s just the way I am. I thought you accepted that and you were fine with it.”

“I am.”

“But you left. So, what did I do?”

And then the food arrived and I was about to shoot the fucking waiter who decided to talk Harry into some dessert.

“Excuse me! I chose this fucking place and paid for this stupidly overpriced private room to have some _privacy_ to talk to my partner. So, could you please fuck off already? Thank you.”

The waiter had enough common sense to apologize and leave. Meanwhile Harry looked about ready to bolt and flee, but I was strategically seated closer to the door so I could stop him if he tried.

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

He was freaked out and it was putting me on edge. We both needed to calm down, so I poured us some wine and smiled, hoping it would help him relax. I needed that drink as much as he did because thinking that he may not want to come back was freaking ME out! But I was not going to let it show. I needed to be calm and patient, keeping in mind how skittish he could be sometimes, and how it made him act completely unpredictable. Actually, I was going to be honest with him for once, no macho bullshit, no sass, no making fun.

He gulped his glass down, so I poured him another one. I almost dropped some snide remark but I kept my mouth shut and gave him a soft smile instead hoping it would cam him down, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.

“You better now, chief?”

“I… I don’t know what’s going on. Are we being observed? You held my hands and called me your partner. Are we pretending to be a couple again?”

And I know I just said that I was going to be honest, but come on! It was too temping to pass.

“If I said yes, would you sit in my lap and let me kiss you senseless?”

His jaw dropped, literally. His face turned all red and I was afraid he would throw up, but he surprised me when he got up and approached me on shaky legs.

“Just like that?” It was barely above a whisper.

I turned toward him, not really sure what he was up to, but when he began to slide into my lap I didn’t care. I just wanted to keep him there. My arms moved on their own, circling his smaller body, bringing him closer and fuck, how did I manage to keep my hands to myself for four freakin’ months when I had him around?! My hands rubbed his back and I longed to slide them lower to squeeze that perky ass of his but I only dared to slide my fingers to the very top of his crack. It made his hips jerk forward and huh, that was interesting. I kept my finger pressed there feeling him tremble in my arms. It was exhilarating. I wanted to move it a bit deeper down but he was already jumpy enough and I still couldn’t wrap my head around how I managed to get Harry Lockhart in to my fucking lap.

He was so awkward it would be funny in any other circumstances. He fumbled with his hands, unsure where to place them. For a moment he clearly considered putting them in his pockets but he realized he needed them for support.

My finger rubbed against his crack a little, without my permission, mind you. He jumped and finally put his arms over my neck. I couldn’t help but grin. He licked his lips and leaned over. I met him half way, catching his mouth with my own. It was nothing like that quick fumbling in the back alley with a dead body in the trunk. This time I took my time with him, sucking on his plump lower lip and licking it just before I slipped my tongue inside, swallowing his gasp.

I could feel his fingers at the nape of my neck, scratching helplessly as he slowly moved his own tongue to play with mine. And fuck, I grabbed his ass in both my hands like I always wanted. I touched, caressed, slapped, fucked and ate dozens of men asses. I’m Gay Perry. I’ve done it all. But believe me when I say, Harry’s ass is a work of art. It was a Mona Lisa of human asses.

It wasn’t the first time I had that thought. I appreciated its roundness and its compact build by Debney’s pool when Harry was saving that damn moth from drowning. I looked at it every day since and I knew it was perfect. I lived with Harry. I’ve seen him drop his towel exactly eight times and hence I knew he had nothing to be ashamed of. I dreamed about burying my face between his cheeks and sticking my tongue into his hole. I wanted to bite them and touch them all the time. Every guy I fucked in those four months heard Harry’s name when I came, and all that because of his perfect ass.

But to see it and think it was a desperately far cry from actually touching and feeling!

This was heaven. That was how heaven must have been like. My heaven was Harry’s ass.

I didn’t say any of that, thank fuck, but I did growl into his mouth and he almost bit my tongue off when he felt I was getting hard. He pulled away from the kiss, his lips wet and swollen, face flushed, and hair a mess. He looked divine and so fuckable I almost lost it.

“Where’s the camera?” He practically breathed the words into my mouth.

Did I say I was going to be honest? Fuck.

“What camera?”

I started to kiss his neck making him moan softly and it was lovely. He smelled like… Harry. That was one of the things I missed the most when I realized he was gone form my house – his smell. He smelled like home, but somehow home didn’t smell like Harry anymore and it was just so wrong.

“The camera they watch us through…”

“No one is watching, Harry. It’s a private room.”

I was leaving a hickey on his collarbone.

“Then why did you ask me to pretend?”

“I didn’t.” I licked the bruise I left on his skin and I swear, nothing ever tasted as good.

Unfortunately, I barely got a taste before he was off my lap and far from my reach.

“Fuck.” I couldn’t believe I got myself so uncomfortably hard just from some necking and grabbing his ass. It took me a minute to catch my breath, just sitting there, with my legs spread and a tent between them. He was all shaken up, pulling at his hair and cursing.

“I can’t believe… I thought we were under cover!”

“I told you at least five times already that we weren’t. It’s a normal dinner.”

“Why would you go to dinner with me?”

“To talk.”

“About what?”

”About exactly what I was trying to ask you. Why did you leave?”

“I…” He dropped back into his chair, staring dumbly into his food.

“What did I do, Harry?”

“Nothing.”

“I was always an ass to you… and everyone else. You knew that I was. So, what happened? I crossed a line? Fine. Just tell me what it was and I won’t do it again.”

“You didn’t do anything. Just… my sister called and told me about the job-“

“That’s a lie! She told me that you asked her for help.”

“Shit.”

“Don’t lie to me, Harry. Just tell me what’s wrong and I will fix it and we’ll go back home, to L.A. and our fucked-up job. Together.”

He wasn’t looking at me.

“No.”

And the world collapsed around me.

“Why not?”

He shrugged.

“Because… I never fitted in there. You never wanted me anyway. I was like a stray dog pissing on your carpet. I screw up everything.”

“You don’t screw up _every_ thing.”

“Why did you have a spare shirt for me?”

“…In case something happened to the first one.”

“You knew. You knew I would ruin the first one. Because I ruin everything I touch.”

“I prepared for this kind of thing to happen because I’m a control freak, and because I know you. You get awkward when you’re nervous. I knew you would be nervous about the dinner, thinking it was some secret operation. That’s all. You don’t ruin everything.”

“Yeah? Give me one example.”

I kind of surprised myself with how easily I spilled more than one.

“You’re a talented shooter, you’re brilliant with people and you make the best coffee. There is more to you than your screw ups, Harry.”

“Who are you, and where is Perry?”

“Harry, if I wanted you gone you would be gone before you’d know what hit you. Do you really think I would offer you a job and let you live with me, _in my house_ , if I didn’t want you around?”

He must have been thinking really hard because his brow creased. His eyebrows usually went up when he was thinking.

“Are you saying that you want me to work for you?”

And you cannot possibly imagine how many answers to that tried to come out of my mouth!

“You don’t have to work for me. You can do whatever you want. If you prefer to take one of Debney’s sitcoms offers, I’m cool with that. Just… come back. That’s all I’m asking. I want you to come back.”

His face was doing something complicated settling in the end for a confused meercat.

“Would you help me find an apartment?”

And my brain kind of short-circuited.

“What? No! Why would you need an apartment?”

He shrugged. Like it was nothing. Like it wasn’t the most absurd thing he’d ever said, and believe me he’s record was already outstanding.

“I du’ know.”

Yeah, that was smooth. But at least it seemed like I was getting somewhere.

“Harry?”

“What? Are we leaving soon? It’s getting late and I have to get up early.”

“Relax. Tomorrow’s flight is 10:30.”

“I meant my job.”

“Harry, I’m your job. Unless you tell me _why_ you so suddenly decided to quit, and give me a good fucking reason for it, you’re getting back.”

For some reason he blushed. And yeah, that was interesting.

“Harry?”

“It’s nothing! There is no reason. I thought you wanted me gone.”

“I didn’t! Can we go and pack your stuff now?”

“No.”

“Harry?” Fuck it. I reached out and took his hand in both of mine, looking into his eyes and trapping his attention.

“The reason, please.”

He was already shaking his head, even though he knew he was risking my ire. Normally he would rather loose another finger than piss me off, so he must have been convinced that whatever it was all about, was more important.

“Harry, it’s okay. You can tell me. I was an asshole to you. Noted. But I was always like that, so it must have been something else. What was it?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay, Chief, you have two options here. One: you tell me what happened, I explain how stupid it is and we go back to L.A. Option two: you refuse to tell me and we go back to L.A. Which is it?”

“I can’t. And those are not the only two options. There is no option one at all, because if I tell you, you won’t take me back anyway.”

“Try me.”

“No!”

“Ok, so if you don’t want to go back anyway and you’re so convinced I won’t take you back if you tell me, you may as well tell me anyway. It’s a win-win for you. Either way you get what you want.”

The way he looked at me clearly meant that he was getting exactly the opposite of what he wanted, no matter which option he chose.

“What did I do, Harry?”

“Nothing. It wasn’t anything you did. It’s not you! It’s me!”

“Sounds like you’re breaking up with me.”

“That’s not funny!”

“Do you see me laughing?”

I certainly wasn’t in the laughing mood. I was terrified.

“Perry…”

“Harry?”

“I… I don’t want to tell you. Could we please just… go back. I want to change back into my clothes. I need to get up early.”

“Okay, if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

The way back to the hotel was quiet despite my failed attempts at conversation. He started to take off the suit as soon as he crossed the threshold and I was already half hard again. I watched him change back into his own casual clothes, turning back into the typical Harry-mess. Only then I walked up to the door and turned the key. It locked with a click.

“Oh, come on!” He looked tired and resigned.

“Don’t I at least deserve to know?”

His shoulders dropped and I couldn’t look at him like that, so broken and utterly defeated. He crossed his arms over his chest but it looked more like he was hugging himself, with his shoulder almost touching his ears. In two strides I was in front of him, circling my arms around his compact form. He fitted perfectly in there for all two seconds it took him to squirm away.

“Don’t…”

Shit. I never felt a need to hug another person, but with Harry it was a compulsion, which now that I had a taste, was becoming really fucking hard to fight. But I backed off a step, with my hands raised in surrender and for some reason I wanted to fall to my knees in front of him. Not to beg, just to be there, and it freaked me out, big time.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, tormenting his hair again.

“I’m so sorry, Perry. You do deserve it. You deserve everything. You helped me, saved my life dozens of times! You gave me home and a job and I am so ungrateful. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Harry. It’s alright. We’re cool. You can come back.”

“No, I can’t. I lied to you. I’m sorry. I lied.”

“You lied? About what?” I kind of didn’t want to know. I realized that I’d rather be lied to and have him than know whatever he lied to me about. Pitiful, I know.

“Look, chief, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No. I owe you the truth. You should know how… stupid and ungrateful I am. You don’t want me back. I can’t use you like that any longer. I can’t…”

I moved without thinking, grabbing his shoulders, and sitting him down on the bed. I kneeled in front of him, with my hands holding his hips. And I only did it because I still felt that need to be on my knees for him, like a helpless idiot.

“You alright?”

He shook his head and I was getting tired of it. I wanted to take him home and not think about anything else. But he was clearly tormenting himself for no reason and I couldn’t leave him like that. Just like I couldn’t let him get shot and shielded him with my own body.

“Just tell me whatever it is you think is so horrible and you’ll see you’re just being stupid.”

“You only say that because you don’t know.”

I snorted.

“What is it? What can be worse than ruining the Pollock? It was the most expensive thing in the house. What else could you destroy? Was it a car? Did you crash my Lambo?”

It surprised me how undisturbed I was by that thought. It was clear in my tone too.

“No! I would shoot myself before you could get too me if I did.”

“Don’t be stupid, Harry. Those are just things. Things can be replaced. I would be pissed, and certainly would bitch about it, but it’s nowhere near of how nerve wrecked you make me feel right now.”

“I… I… I am so stupid. And so ungrateful. And disgusting.”

“Harry?”

“It’s your boyfriend.”

...tbc.


	3. Where I have a boyfriend

My mind screeched to a halt.

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend. I… I kind of… was jealous.”

“What?”

“I was jealous. I could hear you with him time after time and I was fine when I though you just fucked around but when I realized it’s the same guy, it hit me like… like a fucking truck. And I know he’s probably great and perfect, because you chose him, and you can have anyone you want. But I just couldn’t stand it. Hearing you, knowing you were fucking him through your mattress. I know I should be grateful that you let me stay at your place and I shouldn’t… I was… I am… fuck… I can’t apologize enough. I’m sorry. I didn’t even know I could… you know…”

“Um… no. I don’t know. You’re gonna have to be more specific here. Like, really specific.”

Fuck I was so close, I was holding my breath.

“I knew it. You’re mad. Please, don’t kill me. Please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know I’m a looser.”

I grabbed his shoulders and shook him slightly.

“Harry! Focus. You didn’t know that you could… what?”

“Be…”

He was killing me. Literally, because once again I was holding my breath and nothing!

“Be…”

“Be what?!”

“Be gay for you.”

And that made me dizzy. I’m not sure if it was the lack of air in my brain or the unexpected sure of pure happiness, but it almost made me swoon.

“You are gay for me?”

My hands slid back to his hips tightened making him yelp.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. But I can’t go back and lay in my bed hearing you call his name and… and think about it. I’m sorry. I was… Fuck, you’re going to kill me. But you deserve to know how fucked up I am. You were calling his name and I was… I was…”

“Harry?” I was so fucking hard by then I could barely speak. “Harry, did you jerk off hearing me with other guys?”

“No! Not with… not with all the guys. Just your boyfriend. And, fuck, that’s so much worse. Can I go home now?”

“No. No, no, no. You’re not going anywhere. First, you’re going to tell me, what made you think I have a boyfriend?”

“Well, first I heard from the guys.”

“What guys?”

“At Chico’s.” My heart did a somersault. I’ve never felt jealousy in my life, until then.

“Chico’s? What the hell were you doing at a fucking gay club?”

“I was looking for you!”

“I don’t remember ever seeing you at Chico’s.”

“Because I couldn’t find you. And the guys said you were probably with your boyfriend.”

“WHAT GUYS?!”

“Tommy and then...”

“You talked to Tommy?”

“Yes. He was very nice. I kinda’ like your friends. Why don’t you ever invite them over?”

“They are not my fucking friends. I don’t have friends! Tommy is a bartender. I talk to him when I order a drink. The rest are just some guys I fucked! Don’t fucking believe a word they say about me! Don’t even talk to them! You know what? You are not allowed to go there without me. Ever.”

Just a thought about Harry alone at Chico’s made my blood boil. How the fuck did he manage to get out of there not getting...

“Wait. Tell me about every second you spent at Chico’s. Did anyone fucking touch you?”

“No. I mean, at first they were all kinda’ handsy… made me feel like fresh meat. But when I said my name they stepped back like I was a leper or something. Now that I think about it, maybe they thought I was your Harry! OMG! I’m so sorry if they did.”

“You are my only Harry, _Harry.”_

“Then what’s his real name?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend and the guys at Chico’s can go fuck themselves.”

“Fine, but they were not the only ones that know about your boyfriend. Some guys at Frisco’s too.”

“You were at Frisco’s?!!! What the fuck, Harry?”

“When I couldn’t find you at Chico’s Freddy said I should try at Frisco’s, but you weren’t there either, so Franck and Jerry…”

“You talked to... FUCK!”

“And then all those people at Dabney’s party, they all know about him too. They talk about how much you like him and how you’re settling down. And that’s when realized I was in the way. I lived in your fucking home. I knew it was time for me to give you two space.”

“I don’t have a fucking boyfriend!”

“Perry, I heard you with him, remember? I heard you every time! You call his name when you…”

“When I come?”

“Yeah.”

He looked marvelous when he blushed.

“And you’re telling me you were actually jerking off thinking about me. Do you have a crush on me, Harry?”

He whined and hid his adorable crestfallen face in his hands. I just pulled him closer, nuzzling his hair, trying to encourage him to look up.

The funny thing is, I always hoped to get Harry’s perfect ass one day. I just never thought it would be so soon. I was thinking, three more heartbreaks and he’ll come crying into my arms, so I could use it to get into his pants. But never, in my wildest dreams, had I thought he would just come up with it himself.

I grabbed his wrists and pushed him to lay flat on the bed, holding them on both sides of his head. I straddled his torso and gave him a wicked smile before I rubbed my erection against his stomach.

“Fuck! Perry!”

“That’s the idea, Chief. I’m glad you’re catching on.”

“Stop! Stop!”

“Why?”

“What about your boyfriend?”

I lowered myself to lie on top of him, feeling his own hard-on rigid against mine. My hands let go of his, so they could circle his flustered face.

“Harry, I need you to listen to me one more time. You need to focus. Look at me.”

He did.

“I’m sorry, Perry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just trust me, alright? And listen. Are you listening?”

“Yes.” He was panting like he ran a fucking Marathon and he was driving me nuts. I wanted to burry myself in him right then and there but he was looking at me with those big, sad Bambi-eyes clearly expecting to hear bad news.

“Ok, so one more time: I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“I heard you with him! Not once! Don’t lie to me.”

I shushed him with my lips against his ear.

“Think Harry. You can do it. I believe in you.”

“But, it doesn’t make any sense. I heard you call his name.”

“You heard me, yes. I moaned that name every time I came in the last four months. You’re doing great Chief. Connect he dots now. Come on. Clue number two: I have never fucked a guy named Harry.”

My mouth was sucking a hickey onto his neck, just below his right ear, where no turtleneck could hide it. This time I felt him tense, and could almost hear the rusty gears in his confused mind starting to move.

“You got it yet?”

“I…” He moaned like whore, smelled like sin, and tasted like heaven. I wanted to sink my teeth in him, and my fingers, and my cock.

“Why… why did you call him Harry then?”

I snorted and lifted my head to look him in the eye this time.

“You know I never sleep with the same guy twice. _Harry._ ”

He closed his eyes trying to think.

“What does it mean? You call _them all_ Harry?”

“Bingo!”

I had to reward him for that so I rolled my hips down and bit his shoulder.

“Why…?”

I sighed heavily and almost gave up.

“Your last clue, Chief: You are the only Harry I know.”

He froze, this time he really was trying to come up with some conclusion, but it took him so long I already busied myself with opening his fly.

“But I… don’t get it.”

“I can see that.”

He was too distracted to think anyway, so there was no point in talking about it even more. He didn’t get it. And I figured that the best way to get the message cross was to simply show him what I meant.

He seemed a bit scared and overwhelmed but he followed my every instruction.

I turned him onto his stomach and pulled his pants down to his knees, together with underwear, to instantly shove my face where it longed to be since forever. God, he was so tense I couldn’t breach him with my tongue, so I sucked on his puckered entrance getting drunk on his moans. I had my hands on both his cheeks squeezing them and spreading. He was so fucking tanned that for a moment there my heart squeezed at the thought that he sunbathed nude. I was so fucking jealous it wasn’t even funny. I bit his thigh, just to leave another mark and it was high, in a place where it would leave no doubts about him being claimed. Then I moved my face to his balls and fondled them with my tongue, while one of my fingers began to work on his entrance.

“Fuuck…” He loved it. I moved up his body, leaving a trail of kisses on his back, from his crack up to his neck, and then I grabbed his hair to turn his head around and claimed his lips. His taste was addicting. I turned him onto his back and kissed him again. I matched the rhythm of my tongue with the finger I shoved back into his lovely hole as I worked it open. I needed a lube. Pulling away was a pain but it made me smile seeing how he chased my lips with his.

“Easy, Chief. I’ll take care of you.”

I fetched the bottle of slick and a pack of condoms from my suitcase and I was back between his legs before he even managed to close them. I got rid of the rest of his clothes and got to work.

“Fuck Perry…”

“Yeah, in a minute. I need to prepare you first. Relax.”

“Shit!”

One finger was driving him crazy, but two seemed like too much at first so I started to blow him and he didn’t even notice the third.

“Fuck, fuck, Perry, I can’t believe you’re doing this…”

“Yeah, Chief, me neither.” I flipped him onto his stomach again. Manhandling him felt ridiculously good. I covered his body with mine, sliding home without warning. He gasped and moaned instantly tensing up.

“Fuck, Harry, relax. It’s just me. Trust me.”

He moaned and by some miracle did exactly as he was told. I gave him a minute to get used to the feeling before I started to pull back a little and slid back in deeper, again and again, until he begged me to go faster. It was maddening. I was about two thrusts from coming and I barely fucking started. I felt like a fucking teenager. I reached around him for his cock, quickly getting him off, just barely in time to make it before me. He whined and spammed, squeezing me in his hot wet insides.

I couldn’t believe the sounds I was making while I was coming and there was seemingly no end to my release. I couldn’t catch my breath, and I was still hard as a rock. I pulled out and got rid of the condom. It was so packed I had trouble tying it up. I couldn’t remember the last time I came so hard. Probably in high school.

Then I flipped Harry over onto his back, and pulled his legs apart. His hole was red and swollen, his lips parted, his eyes drooping. He looked like a wet dream come true and I was still painfully hard despite that impossible orgasm I just had. I leaned over to kiss him and slid my wet cock back inside him. He whined like he was in pain, but he wrapped his legs around my hips locking me between them.

“You alright there, Chief?” I bit his neck. I wanted to devour him.

“I… yeah… you’re still…”

“Fucking you. Yes.” My hips were still moving and the head of my cock was pressed against his prostate again.

“It feels… different now… more…”

“Yeah, the condom’s off.”

“Oh…”

He took it like a pro, I must say.

“Harry, I think I’m going to come again.”

“Oh… alright.”

“I’ll come inside you, Harry.”

I kissed him, to not give him a chance to say no. His hands were in my hair, pulling me closer, and his tongue was in my mouth. To give you some comparison, if my first orgasm was like a fucking explosion, the second was like coming home. I trembled buried up to my balls between his legs. He was still so wonderfully tight and hot while I was finally getting soft. As I pulled out again, I locked him in my arms and closed my eyes for a bit. I wanted to eat him up again, thinking of his hole so tender, oversensitive and relaxed, but I was too tired to move. I guess I needed to catch some sleep.

I was going to fuck him again in the morning anyway.

Except that he wasn’t there when I woke up.

I was alone and the bed was cold beside me, meaning he must have left right after I fell asleep. Why?

What the fuck did I do wrong this time? I practically confessed my undying love for him, for Christ sake! It was all like a fucking romantic comedy! Except that it wasn’t funny, of course, like at all. It was actually pretty tragic from the start, with me being first abandoned, then robbed, then devastated by Harry’s supposed accident and death… But hey, at least nobody died!

Except for Harry’s friend from work, of course, but whatever.

So, what the fuck was Harry’s problem here? We talked, we fucked and he liked it! And he liked me! He said it himself. So, what the actual fuck?!

I could still smell him on the sheets and on my own skin. I was aching for him, my cock already hard and leaking in anticipation.

I took a shower and went to Harry’s sister.

“He’s at work.”

Of-fuckin-course.

“That’s it. I’m going to drag him out of there. I have no time for this.”

“What did you do to him? He got back after midnight, looking like a beaten dog. I think he was limping.”

I smirked at that. I couldn’t help it.

“Oh my God! Did you fuck my brother?” I scoffed.

“I made love to him. There’s a difference!”

“Which is?”

And she kind of had me there for a moment.

“I let him come first.”

She looked like she just swallowed a lemon.

“You’re such a dick. I have no idea what Harry sees in you.”

I shrugged. “My cock, probably.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t mind. And you know why? It’s because we’re perfect together.”

“Then why isn’t he on the plane with you right now?”

And wasn’t that a million-dollar question.

“The truth is, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? What the fuck did you do to my brother?”

“What, you want fucking details?”

“Oh, you’re such an asshole! I can’t believe he stayed with you for months! You were supposed to take him out, to dinner. What happened to that?”

“I did take him!”

She was taking a deep breath, probably to yell again, so I clarified.

“To dinner! I did take him to dinner! We ate and we talked about fucking feelings, alright? What else do you want me to do?”

“Feelings?”

“Yeah. He practically admitted that he had a crush on me.”

“He did?” Her eyebrows hit her hairline.

“Well yeah! Kind of.”

“What does that mean? What did he say?”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I just told the truth.

“That he jerked off thinking about me.”

“Oh. How romantic. What did you answer?”

“I… tried to tell him I felt the same.”

“Which is…”

I shrugged, fixing my tie just to do something with my hands.

“That I fucked other guys thinking of him. I even called them all Harry.”

I smiled expecting a praise, which in hindsight was pretty stupid of me, I admit.

“You are such a pig!”

“What?”

“You… I thought you actually liked him!”

“I do like him! I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t!”

She was still fuming, but clearly placated for now.

“Well, you clearly fucked it up. He’s at work and I’m pretty sure he’s not going anywhere with you.”

“What the hell is his problem? He wants me. I want him. We have a good life back at home. I now know why he left and I fixed it! The sex is great! So, once again, and I can’t stress that part enough, _what the actual fuck?_ ”

“You know, I’m surprised that gay relationships ever work out. Because apparently all men are idiots. Harry more than others, I admit, but you? You’re a successful PI, you are clearly intelligent and well educated, but still, you have no fucking clue how to communicate with the person you’re clearly crazy about.”

“Hey! I communicated all evening!”

“Did you at least tell him that you liked him?”

Shit. Did I? I was pretty sure that I did, like, with every word I said!

She just rolled her eyes.

“Maybe you should draw him a card, with big red heart and your names.”

“Nah, he would think it’s about some other Harry.”

She laughed at that, like it was a fucking joke, but seeing my unamused expression she stopped.

“He would, wouldn’t he? Of course, he would. You know what? You chose him, for some reason, so I believe in you. You got this.”

And she was right. I chose Harry, knowing it would not be easy. I loved all his silly flaws as much as his good heart, happy-go-lucky attitude, and his gorgeous face. I signed up for this. Sure, it took me by surprise, but it was still a fact. I invited him into my life and I couldn’t bear it without him. During our talk over the dinner, I asked him to be very specific and clear, but honestly, I did not give as good as I got. I owed him now.

“Thanks.”

I think she liked whatever she saw on my face because she laughed again and let me leave. I had a few things to prepare but I timed it perfectly to catch Harry during his lunch break. He sat with a bunch of other guys, all dressed in similar black dungarees and white branded t-shirts. Harry had a pair of goggles in his messed-up hair. He was eating a sandwich but right when I entered the room, I could see 90% of its content slip out and fall onto the table with his first bite. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Harry!”

His head instantly snapped to look at me as he stood from his chair.

“Perry? What are you doing here?”

I walked up closer with a smile on my face. This was it.

“I needed to tell you something. Just in case I didn’t get myself clear last night.”

“What?” His eyes bulged out and his jaw dropped. Well, if he didn’t want to have this talk in front of his friends and apparently his boss, who joined the group not hiding his curiosity, then he shouldn’t have left me alone after sex. He could’ve woken me up, but he chose to flee. This was his punishment and my fun.

“I just wanted to tell you that I, obviously, care about you very much and want you to go back home with me. Because I only came to New York to get you back and, also to tell you that I like you.”

“Perry!”

“If me taking a bullet for you didn't make the message cross, I also came to tell you that you are the most important thing in my life. So, when I say that I like you, I don’t mean our friendship. I mean that I love you. I guess I was in love with you all this time. And I want you to be my boyfriend. I want to take you to Chico’s and every other place and tell every fucker that had ever laid eyes on you that you’re mine.”

“Perry…?”

He sat back down, like all of it was too much for him to take, so I knelt by his feet again and took his hands in mine.

“I know I’m an asshole and that I’m going to be difficult. I’ve never done this before. I have never been with anyone long-term and I will probably be horrible at this, but I want this to work and if you trust me and give me this chance, I will do anything to keep you safe, and hopefully make you happy. Because without you, everything sucks, big time. So, what do you say?”

He looked like a fish out of the water, trying to find words for a good minute.

“I… Are serious?”

“Dead serious, Harry. I even bought a ring, but please, don’t make me propose in a furniture factory. We can go straight to Paris from here the moment you pack, or to fucking Egypt, I don’t know. Just not here, Harry. Please.”

The moment I waited for his shaky nod was the longest 30 seconds of my life. I could feel sweat dripping of my forehead, but in the end, it turned out that those were Harry’s tears. He leaned over me with a sob and kissed my temple.

“Yeah, okay.”

The whole factory exploded with cheers and whistles, clapping like we just recited King Lear, or something. And I was grinning like an idiot.

In the end Harry chose the Niagara Falls, for whatever reason, but it could as well be Nebraska, because we didn’t leave our room even once. We fucked like rabbits through the whole stay and I only realized that I forgot to propose when we were on the plane back.

As it turned out, of all the shit I said that fateful evening, the only thing that registered in Harry’s brain was that I never sleep wit the same guy twice. So, he’d left after we fucked because he thought I was done with him already. No comments, please.

And that would be all. This is the story of me getting together with Harry. I decided to finally share it, since it opened the whole new chapter of our relationship and is a nice closure to the ridiculous story Harry had told you in that absurd movie.

I’m still and asshole, and Harry is still impossible but we’re good. It’s been 15 years since 2005 and we still fight over the chips on the couch, but we also wake up together every morning and people say I’m less of an ass since I settled.

It’s a lie by the way. I’m not. Fuck everyone who thinks that and fuck their unsolicited opinions.

Ps. He says hello, and that I was an unreliable narrator, but what the hell does he know anyway. Fuck it and fuck Harry! (which I will in a minute)

The End


End file.
